jato

Jato gave up on the computer and swung around to her.

Jato felt as if he were trapped on a guess of a world.

After a while a thought surfaced in Jato s mind.

It was dark in color, almost black, longer than Jato and much heavier.

Over the next few hours the wind dried Jato's clothes.

Jato flew through the air and landed several feet away from me.

They went very still when they saw Jato in my hands.

Then it hit Jato, what else she had said.

When a wash of blue appeared the screen, Jato almost laughed.

It was darker than when Jato in his hand had saved my life.

Jato seemed to quiver in my hands as it came alive.

Jato had let the lure of that promise fool him.

I drew Jato and the blade flashed in the sun.

Jato had heard others put forth, but the Dreamers denied them.

It was only a matter of seconds before a syringe shot hit Jato in the chest.

Jato wished he had never pulled her into this.

Jato stood up, an explosion working up inside of him.

The abbot took Jato from its covering and held it out toward me in both hands.

He was carrying the chest for me, but I held Jato.

His murderers were dead and Jato had come home.

Even then, no one looked at Jato, not even the server.

Her clothing looked familiar, but Jato couldn't place why.

I felt the weight of Jato against my flank.

Jato swallowed, wondering if he had just set himself up for a rebuff.

I was armed with throwing knives, a short sword, and Jato.